Score
by MJ Duncan
Summary: It's a slow day at the firehouse. Just some basically plotless Shawson smuff (smutty fluff – no angst here, peeps) written by request for Sav8801. This is, once again, written in the 2nd person POV because it's apparently become my thing for these two.


**Shawson:** Score  
**Author:** MJ Duncan  
**Fandom: **Chicago Fire  
**Pairing: **Leslie Shay/Gabriela Dawson  
**Rated: **NC17  
**Summary: **It's a slow day at the firehouse. Just some basically plotless Shawson smuff (smutty fluff – no angst here, peeps) written by request for Sav8801. This is, once again, written in the 2nd person POV because it's apparently become my thing for these two.  
**Disclaimer: **All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. References to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

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**SCORE**

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..

You know it's mean of you to tease Dawson as you walk behind her and run your fingers lightly over the back of her shoulders, stroking playfully across the nape of her neck as you make your way into the kitchen for a bottle of water, but that knowledge doesn't stop you from doing it. It's been a slow shift with exactly zero calls and while you all appreciate the lack of activity, it's still a little boring and you've been entertaining yourself by seeing how much you can tease your girlfriend under the noses of the rest of the guys who are still in the dark about your fledgling relationship. At various points through the day you've surreptitiously grabbed her ass, rubbed your arm against her breasts as you reached across the counter for a napkin you didn't need, and whispered quiet promises in her ear of what you plan on doing to her once your shift ends and you are free for another 48-hours.

It's been, in all honesty, entirely enjoyable, and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling as you feel her shiver under her touch. You pull your hand away as you feel her shoulder tense, and when she turns to glare at you over her shoulder, you just give her playful wink before you walk away.

Neither of you notice that Hermann and Otis are watching you with a speculative twinkle in their eyes.

You smile at Mills as you walk behind him – he's leaning over the counter looking through a cookbook to figure out what ingredients he needs next for the dinner he's cooking – and sigh as you open the fridge. While teasing Dawson has been fun, it's also been hell on your own restraint and as your nipples tighten painfully in response to the little bit of cold pouring out of the fridge, you decide that you should probably turn it down a bit so that you can make it through the shift without jumping her or anything. You unscrew the cap of your water as your turn back toward the main room, and you feel your breath hitch as your eyes land on Dawson's. Her gaze is dark and challenging, and it's all you can do to not whimper softly when she licks her lips, arches a brow, and stands up from the table saying something about going to lie down in a bunk and read before dinner. She stares at you for the space of a few heartbeats, just long enough to make sure that you understand exactly what it is that she's not saying, and then she smirks triumphantly as she walks out of the room.

You mutter something about a nap sounding good as you stroll slowly toward the door. You're so focused on appearing to be nonchalant, in fact, that you miss the money exchanging hands at the table behind you as you do your best to not literally run after your girlfriend.

The hallway by the bunks is quiet since it's still early in the day, and you swallow thickly as you walk into one of the larger officer quarters that is assigned to you and Dawson whenever you're on duty. It was modified especially for you two as it had two beds in the room instead of one like the rest of the private quarters. Not that either you or Dawson are officers, but being the only women in the house allows you a little extra privacy that your rank doesn't quite deserve.

She's waiting for you when you walk into the room at the end of the hall, boots already kicked off, and you smile at her as you close the door behind yourself. The lights are on and the blinds are closed, and you hold her smoldering gaze captive as the lock clicking quietly under your thumb punctuates the fact that you two are now completely and totally alone.

"You're mean," she says, but the amused smile tweaking her lips and the twinkle in her eyes tells you that you needn't be worried that she might be truly upset about your behavior.

You flash her an innocent smile and ask, "How so?" which makes her laugh and your smile widens as a result.

Her dark eyes flash with unfettered want, and you lick your lips as she steps into you. Her mouth on yours hungry and demanding, and you chuckle softly into the kiss as you surprise her and spin her around so she's pinned between you and the door. Now that there's no reason for you to restrain yourself, you waste no time grabbing her breasts, squeezing and rolling the mounds through the soft cotton of her shirt as you rock your hips hard into hers.

The fact that the alarm could ring at any moment and call an end to your furtive games spurs you forward, and you pull away just long enough to rip her shirt off before you dive back in. It's an indulgence you really shouldn't take, but you can't resist the urge to have her completely bare before you. If a call comes in, you'll help her dress as quickly as possible, but for now you want nothing more than to be able to see and touch every inch of her glorious body. Her skin is soft and warm under your hands and you revel in the quiet moans that escape her as you deftly unhook her bra and slide it down her arms. Her nipples are hard against your palms as your hands return to her breasts, and you smile at the way she whimpers when you give the tight nubs a quick pinch.

She tries to push off the door but you hold her in place, a quiet growl rumbling in your throat as you shake your head. You have every intention of following through on a few of the more explicit promises you made her earlier.

"Let me have you?" you murmur, your voice low and rough, and you smile as you feel her relax against you.

You reward her submission with another deep, probing kiss as your hands drop from her breasts to her waist so you can undo her pants. A small shove guides both her pants and underwear over her hips, and you don't stop kissing her as you move your hips far enough away from hers so that she can kick the unwanted clothing aside. You hear her clothes hit the wall with a quiet thwump and you hum approvingly as you let your hands drop to caress the sweet curve of her ass.

She moans as you dig your fingers into her backside and pull her roughly into you, and it's loud enough that you giggle as you pull back and whisper, "Shh."

The last thing either of you need is for anyone to hear you. Not that you're afraid that you would encounter much in the way of reprimand from your superiors for your relationship because there's nothing in the regulations prohibiting your dating, but because you know that the rest of the guys would give you hell for it.

"I know. Just, shut up and touch me," she husks, thrusting her hips needfully against yours as she tries to spur you into motion. "I want you."

"Mmm, then keep it down," you tell her, kissing her quickly before you dip your head down to take her right nipple into your mouth.

"Oh god," she moans as you suck hard against her, and you smile as you soothe the straining bud with the flat of your tongue. Her hand winds itself into your hair, holding you to her, and you hum under your breath as you tease her nipple to a hard point against your tongue before you drop slowly to your knees, kissing your way down her stomach as you kneel before her.

The scent of her arousal is both potent and intoxicating, and you lick your lips in anticipation of that first heavenly taste. Your eyes flutter closed as you nuzzle the soft skin of her lower stomach and you lift her left leg up over your shoulder. Her hand in your hair tightens as she balances herself on one foot, her left heel digging into your back as you circle her hooded clit with the tip of your tongue. She gasps and bucks hard against your mouth as you paint a broad, heavy lick across her clit, and you sigh as you back off to bathe the sensitive bud with soft kitten licks, teasing it from its hiding place. It doesn't take long for it to swell against your tongue and you smile as you pull back just far enough to blow lightly across it, making it jump and twitch in front of you.

"Gorgeous," you murmur as you dive back in and run the flat of your tongue through her. Her arousal coats your tongue and you hum approvingly as you take her fully engorged clit between your lips and suck softly against it.

"God, Leslie!" she moans, the sound somewhere between soft and loud enough to carry, and you smile as you lash the bud between your teeth with the tip of your tongue.

The hand in your hair pulls as her hips rock hard against your mouth, setting a desperate rhythm that you are helpless but to meet, and when her quiet moans become more than loud enough to draw attention from anyone outside your small room, you regretfully pull away from her so that you can swallow her cries with a kiss.

"No, no, no! Don't stop!" she protests as you pull away, and you shush her with a kiss as you ease your right hand between her legs, dragging your fingertips back and forth through desire-slick folds before thrusting your ring and middle fingers as deep into her as you can.

The moan that escapes her as you begin fucking her in earnest is more than likely loud enough to carry beyond passionate muzzle of your kiss, and you smile in spite of the fact that you might very well be caught because she just feels so good. You brace your left hand on the door beside her head as you add your hips to your thrusts and it doesn't take long for the small bunkroom to be filled with the soft, wet sounds of furtive fucking. You curl your fingers inside her as her walls begin to flutter around you, and you smile smugly against her lips as she groans loudly in response.

It doesn't take much more to send her flying, just four or five hard, quick thrusts, and though you try your best to quiet her moans of pleasure, you know that you've pretty much failed at the task. Her rocking hips still against your hand as her orgasm eases and you cup her gently as you soften your kisses so that they are nothing more than a lazy string of clasping lips.

You hum under your breath as you pull out of her and you wrap your arms around her waist and just hold her close for a moment. The teasing was fun and the quickie was more than satisfying, but this simple, honest emotion is what you treasure. You chuckle softly and press a lingering kiss to her lips as the sounds of the firehouse invade your senses. "We're not going to be able to do that again if you keep making that much noise."

"Shut up," she mutters, blushing. "It's kind of your fault."

"Entirely my fault," you reply, a smug, Cheshire Cat grin tweaking your lips. You've never been one to brag about your conquests, but you do take great pride in your ability to bring a woman pleasure. And even more so now, because it's Dawson.

Before she can reply, the shrill ringing of the station alarm sounds and you stare at each other for half a heartbeat, eyes wide with surprise before you both start laughing and scrambling around the small room for her clothes. You lick your fingers clean as she dresses quickly and you make a mental note to grab a sanitizing wipe from the glove compartment of the ambulance while you're driving to the scene of the accident, and as soon as Dawson's feet are in her boots, you pull open the door and you both go bombing out of it.

And then stop.

Because in front of you are all of the guys from Truck and a few from Squad and you only now realize that the alarm that had rang moments before is now silent. "Uh oh."

Severide flashes you a lecherous smirk and two thumbs up before he says, "Judges… if you would, please reveal your score for the performance we just heard…"

"Oh god," Dawson murmurs as she dives behind you, using your body as a shield to protect her from the knowing smirks of the rest of the unit.

You laugh as each of the guys pulls a piece of paper from his back pocket and unfolds it in front of you to reveal a number between 8 and 10, except for Severide who's reads 15. "Um, thanks?"

"No, thank you," Otis says, grinning like a little boy who just snagged his first Playboy Magazine. "Really. Thank you."

"I didn't know you had it in you," Hermann quips, waggling his brows.

"Oh, I did," Severide pipes up. "You should hear the noises coming from Shay's bedroom. That was quiet!"

"Lucky bastard," Otis mutters.

Dawson whimpers behind you and you laugh as you reach behind yourself to rub her back soothingly. "Right, well. Thank you all for your absolutely frightening interest in our sex lives, and can we please not mention this ever again."

"Not gonna happen," Mouch assures you with a wink. "We wanna hear at the details of how you two finally pulled your heads out of your asses. Chow's ready and you can regale us with the tale of your Sapphic love story over dinner. Lord knows it sounded like you two worked up an appetite."

You have to bite your lip to keep your, "Nah, I just ate" retort back, but you can tell by the look Severide is giving you that he knows what you're thinking.

"What kind of details are we talking?" you ask as you give Dawson's hand a gentle squeeze. Really, the way she's reacting right now is beyond amusing. Considering the way she usually joked around with the guys, you would have expected her to be much more at ease with the whole thing. She, of all women, knows that the best way to make guys stop teasing you about something is to act like it doesn't bother you.

"All of 'em!" Hermann replies.

"Not gonna happen," Dawson says, rolling her eyes as she finally steps out from behind you.

"Some of 'em?" Otis asks hopefully.

"We'll see," you reply, grinning.

"Really?!" Otis asks.

"No," Dawson answers for you. "Not if she knows what's good for her."

You let your shoulders droop in feigned disappointment as you sigh and say, "Right. And I know what's good for me, so you losers are shit outta luck, I'm afraid."

"You suck, Dawson," Otis grumbles.

Unable to resist, you say, "Mmm, she does. But this time it was all me, fellas."

"LESLIE ELIZABETH SHAY!" Dawson yells.

"Ooooh, busted!" the guys singsong, laughing as they turn their backs on you and start back down the hall toward the common area.

You grin and turn to look at your girlfriend. "You're not really mad, are you?" you whisper as you press a quick kiss to her forehead.

"No," she admits, smiling as she pulls away from you and starts down the hall after the guys. "But next time you're the one who's gonna be screaming."

You laugh and hurry up to fall into step beside her. Nobody pays you two any attention as you file into the common area and you grin and as you fill your plate with a pasta dish that Mills has made for the squad. You take your seat beside Dawson and smile as she squeezes your thigh once before she digs into her food and tunes into a conversation between Otis and Mills, and you smile at Severide as he winks at you. This is your family, your home, and while you would have preferred to've kept what just happened between you and Gabby, you can't help but feel blessed to know that everybody supports you.

...

...


End file.
